


Belladonna

by LadyLustful



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Apple of Eden, Assassin Creed Crackship Armada, Canon Character of Color, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Het, Inspired by Music, Interracial Relationship, Poisoning, Time Travel, Washington bashing, loss of viginity (male)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLustful/pseuds/LadyLustful
Summary: Lucrezia makes a wish and finds herself in the future. Well, at least she gets rescued by a sweet, handsome man. Crackity crack fluff romance with a side of poisoned politician.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Lucrezia Borgia
Kudos: 5





	Belladonna

**Author's Note:**

> I did a crackship meme and came up with "What if Lucrezia took Connor's virginity?" Well here is the result in it's cracky glory. Lucrezia haters, Connor haters and especially fans of Washington beware (he gets bashed, hard. I do what I want.)
> 
> Title because it means "Beautiful Woman" in Italian but also is the name of a poison plant, and that honestly fits Lucrezia so much.

"I want to go far away", Lucrezia thinks, looking at the Apple. "I want to go somewhere everyone doesn't hate me."  
And then she is treading water, freezing cold, her heavy wet dress weighing her down as she struggles to stay on the surface. Someone is shouting, and then a wave hits her face, making her choke and tumble into the icy depths... and then someone is grabbing her, dragging her, until she's on the surface and breathing air again, looking up at the side of a ship.  
„A rope, give me a rope,” her rescuer shouts.

Much later, when she is warm and dry and wrapped in heavy woolen blankets and equipped with a warm mug of something her saviour – a Captain Connor, of no family name and with an oddly shaved head, called grog ("It's not to everone's taste, and I should know,” he explains, making a face that's both ridiculus and adorable, "but it's warming, and trust me, it's better than the water"), and sitting comfortably in his cabin, he asks:  
"So how did you find yourself in the middle of the Atlantic without a ship?"  
„I don't know. I was in Italia and then I was here; wherever here is"  
He nods. He has heard of men, at sea and in war, who lost memory of events too frightening for them to remember. Why should a shipwrecked woman not experience the same effect?  
„We're on the Aquila, 30 leagues off Newfoundland."  
It tells her nothing, but sounds exactly how she feels. He mistakes her confusion for an enquiry and explains:  
„We're headed back to Maine, and then to New York, and the Homestead. You can leave at any port or come to the homestead with me, if you have nowhere in America to stay at.”  
„I do not. I would dearly appreciate that.”  


She finds herself out of her depth at the homestead, with no luxuries or servants and no need for poisons or courtly intrigue.  
She listens to gossip and does simple chores and remembers that, in much smaller does, some poisons are an actual cure for certain ailments. It's refreshing, do be a good person for a change, by deeds and reputation, even if her heart is the same. No, her heart will never be the same, broken and only now beginning to heal.

„I have noticed... since you have been at the homestead, you wrote nor received no letters. Do you have no-one to write to?”  
"I lost my brother and my lover", she tells him, not mentioning they were the same person. "Almost everyone else back home hates me. Now I am here, I find myself with no place or reason to return."  
"I have nobody as well. My mother died when I was a child, my father... I killed, in self defense... " Connor finds his words flowing almost against his will, disjointed, raw with sorrow. " ...and my best friend, too... my mentor died recently, of old age, I have no-one, not really close. There's Washington, but I can't trust him like I used to after I found out he killed my mother."  
"He must be a dreadful man, to have done so."  
"No, he's... He's a brilliant general, and an indispensable politician, he's quite nice, once you get to know him. I've known him since I was sixteen, we fought a war together. He called me his best fighter. I think he changed, that he has become a better person... but even if he hasn't, my loyalty to him and the Assassin cause is no less revevant than avenging my mother. I cannot murder him in cold blood, not unless he becomes a danger to the people."

„I know you are a witch.”  
„Excuse me? How dare you?” She appears apalled at the suggestion, and mortally offended.  
„I don't care”, he hastens to explain. „White men may think it is evil, but my tribe has a healthy respect for women who deal with herbs and magic. You are safe here, nobody will chase you.”  
„Thank you. But do not ever call me a witch again.”

„I found these flowers, and I thought you might like them. I don't think they grow in Europe.”  
"Oh Connor. My pretty, sweet, passionate man. I want to kiss you, caro mio."  
  


"You kiss like you have never done it before."  
"I'm sorry. I never had the opportunity."  
"No, don't apologize. I'm just surprised, a handsome man like you..."  
"You mock me."  
„I do not. You are a handsome man, no matter what the jealous will say, and your character is even more endearing.” 

„I want to show you something, if you don't mind a long walk in the woods.”  
„I could be persuaded, in good weather and good company.”  
„Am I good company?”  
„You, caro mio, are the very best.”

"We can rest a bit in this clearing, if you are tired.”  
„I'm not. But I have an idea for something to do here.”

„Oh.”  
„Is something wrong?”  
„Hardly, in fact I'm pleasantly surprised. You're better equipped than most men I have seen. However, I have one thing to teach you that is especially important because of this: make absolutely sure that your lady is positively dripping. Here, let me show you some ways.”  
  
Connor is an excellent lover. All virginal, clumsy and nervous and inexperienced, yes, but teaching him is a whole thrill in and of itself, like unpacking a gift or biting into a dessert. He is obedient and considerate, a quick learner, with a powerful body that seems to never tire and soft lips that seem made for kissing a quim. He will lift her up with ease and the kind of care that makes her feel worshipped, happily lick her into orgasm after orgam, her pale fingers tangled in his dark hair, tugging helplessly. He does seem reluctant to play rougher, but, with a judicious application of begging, orders, and her nails biting into his perfect back and ass, even that can be arranged.  


They are a good match, she thinks. The sex is amazing, and her axe-wielding knight is the kind of man she feels like falling in love with again and again. Despite the hardship that turned him somewhat cynical, Connor has a far more honest, straightforward approach than her. The height of intrigue he is accustomed to is sneaking up on a man and stabbing him in the back rather than the front - she, a woman raised in the most depraved family of the Renaissance, finds she is at loss thinking of ways to harm someone that are not devious and stealthy and frequently convoluted. She has no interest in his Assassin business but all the interest in running the homestead prosperously and keeping its inhabitants happy- and life's little luxuries that Connor would never bother with. And there is something else, a little project that she doubts he would approve of, but that needs seeing to, if not for Connor's benefit, then for her own, for the honour of the family she hopes to have with him and the memory of the mother-in-law she will never know, but wishes had lived because it would make Connor happy. And slowly, a plan is dreamt up, then made, then set in motion, like a machine designed and crafted by an artisan. Not that there is much to the plan - just an introduction, a fake starstruck smile, a sincere offer of a drink and a drop of something lethal in a quarter of that amount, though not immediately. 

„General Washington is dead. He was healthy when I last saw him, but they say he took ill suddenly and died before they could help him.”  
„I'm sorry for your loss. Or should I not be?”  
Damn her, damn his blue-eyed witch for asking the question he was afraid to answer, even in his own heart.  
„He was a great general, and my friend, despite everything, and I grieve for him. Is it wrong that I'm glad it's not my place anymore to condemn or forgive him?”  



End file.
